


Red Carpet, Blue Skies

by RedPaladin465



Category: Fabula Nova Crystallis: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bonding Moments, Chocobros - Freeform, Fluff and Humor, Fun, Gen, Humor, Noctis can't back down from a dare, dares, everyone is alive AU, lots of puns, puns, warpstrikes everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 03:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11245863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedPaladin465/pseuds/RedPaladin465
Summary: It’s official. This was how he was going to die- not from a bloody war or old age, but because he had idiots for brothers and jerks for bodyguards egging him into doing stupid things.





	Red Carpet, Blue Skies

**Author's Note:**

> WHEEEEEE! I needed a chance of pace from Nox Caelum, and this story has been on my mind for a while before I started writing it two weeks ago. It was inspired by this gif: http://68.media.tumblr.com/a766874efc516d9c144ee6e4932a2aec/tumblr_o524rneMR51v6aj9do1_540.gif
> 
> It was a ton of fun writing this, and I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I did :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy XV

Noctis carefully peered over the edge of the balcony like he had done so many times before. Behind him, two very distinct snickers were heard.

“I’m not going to back out,” he said as he sniffed, turning and giving his best death glare. Which, knowing him, wasn’t all that intimidating, but it didn’t hurt to try, especially not in this situation. The snickers turned to grunts in a last-ditch effort to keep the impending laughter at bay. “I’m not!”

Gladio and Prompto gave up all attempt to hide their amusement and gave into roaring laughter, both of them holding their stomachs as Noctis resisted the incredibly strong urge to pout. He was saved by Gladio’s cell phone, stopping the howls. Prompto was actually wiping tears from his eyes when Gladio picked up and put the call on speakerphone, the latter sending Noctis an all-too familiar smirk that made his stomach plummet all the way down to the red carpet and traffic circle below. _Far_ below. To-the-bottom-of-the-Citadel below. From where they were, which was the very top balcony of said Citadel. The Prince narrowed his eyes at his so-called ‘brothers.’

“I’m not sure this is the best idea,” Ignis’ accented voice said through the phone. Noctis rolled his eyes. _Now_ he speaks.

Prompto sighed, expelling the last of his laughing fit. “But that’s why we have you, Iggy! _And_ the Marshal. _And_ the best of the Glaive. To make sure Noct _doesn’t_ die. You know, just in case something happens. Which it won’t. Because he’s going to be fine.”

Two new voices joined the conversation on Ignis’ side, laced with amusement.

“He’s freaking out right about now, isn’t he?” Crowe Altius laughed teasingly.

“Not to worry, Princess,” said Nyx. “You’ve seen her fire tornados, you _know_ Crowe will catch you if you happen to time your warp wrong and, you know, possibly break your-“

A sharp slap was heard. “ _Nyx_!”

If it were possible, Noctis’ face paled even more. Not that he would have admitted it to the two people who could actually see him.

“The Marshal gave the okay,” Gladio said. “This is accuracy training. It will help him to be more precise in battle. Noct’ll be fine. He’s ready for this; this is coming from my professional opinion…”

Ignis sighed, waiting for him to finish his very deliberately trailed-off sentence.

“…And not my personal amusement at His Royal Highness’ fear of heights, of course.”

That elicited a whole new round of snickers.

“I am _not_ afraid of heights! And Ulric, I’m going to fire your ass after this,” Noctis growled.

Nyx snorted. “You can only do that _after_ you manage to get down here, Princess.”

This time, Crowe joined in the twitter of giggles. They heard Ignis sigh again, heavier this time. “The Marshal is here. We’re ready.”

The line cut, and then Gladio and Prompto looked up at Noctis with an almost predatory gleam in their eyes. He shot them his dirtiest look.

“Gladio, aren’t you supposed to be my Shield? Where’s that loyalty you swore to me?”

Said Shield walked up next to him and threw an arm around his shoulders. “All’s fair in love and war, Your Highness,” he practically sang. “I have pledged my life to defending your Princely ass, but it counts as training _and_ me doing my duty in making sure you are able to defend yourself in any given situation. Say, if you were stuck somewhere high up, then after this drill, you’ll have no problems coming back down.”

“I’m not a cat. You’re enjoying this.”

“Clearly.”

“A little too much.”

“You could put it that way.”

There was a flash of light, and Prompto snickered, lowering his camera. “Gotta get this on record!”

“I will throw you off this building, Argentum, and I know for a fact you can’t warp,” Noctis said, deadpanning. His best friend swept into a bow.

“After you, Your _High_ ness.”

Gladio choked on his laughter.

A glare. “Now you’re just mocking me.”

“Me? Never! You’re my best bud. On the contrary, I’m willing to do whatever it takes for your reign to…reach great _heights_.”

“Ehhh, I thought your Highness joke was funnier,” Gladio said.

The blond ignored him and winked. “This baby is all set to record. Whenever you’re ready, Noct!”

Noctis looked over the edge again where he could see four tiny figures on the red carpet below, on the landing right above the traffic circle. He didn’t think it would be _that_ hard. It really was all Nyx and Libertus’ faults, when they were out in the city, making preparations for Luna’s arrival in Insomnia later on in the month. The Glaives were teasing him about the ring that had been nestled in his pocket for quite some time now, the one that had belonged to his mother, that he was supposed to (for purposes of publicity) give to her at the Banquet his father had insisted on for the occasion, nevermind that Noctis had already (officially- at least, to the two of them on their hill of sylleblossoms, where she promptly tackled him into a hug and Umbra and Pryna took that as liberties to then pounce on top of both of them to nap) proposed to her during his last visit to Tenebrae. A public announcement had to be made, and the Prince, who did not _at all_ like being in the limelight as much as he was, was ready to painfully maim with all of the three Armiger weapons he had in his arsenal whomever had suggested he do it at a _stupid Banquet_.

With Ravus watching his every move.

And Aranea Highwind, whom had been elected the next leader of Niflheim and their ally.

And Camelia Claustra, just because Regis had all but planned for the wedding to be in Altissia.

If he messed up, if he so much as _stuttered_ during the official proposal, he knew Ravus and Aranea would be on his tail for _weeks_ , even if the elder Nox Fleuret had already given his approval. Aranea, especially, from personal experience, would never let him live it down. She would lord it over him forever.

He was so royally screwed. Pun completely intended.

“Come on!” Libertus had laughed, slapping a hand on his back. “It’s not that bad!”

“Listen,” Nyx said. “You call for a toast, go up to her, get down on one knee, tell her all the gushy stuff, and then you flash the ring and wait for her to say yes. You know. Like she already did.”

The two Glaives burst out in laughter again. Noctis glared at the pavement in front of him.

“I’d rather warp down from the top of the Citadel than have to make such a public stunt. We’re already engaged anyway, the media can wait until Luna leaves if they want to see a ring.”

Mental sirens should have been blaring _ABORT! ABORT!_ when he saw the look the two Glaives exchanged, but Noctis, while possessing a wide skillset, was also not always the sharpest crayon in the box. That was how he found himself sandwiched between Nyx and Libertus, wicked grins on their faces.

“Say, Noctis,” Nyx started, tone almost gleeful. “I bet you _could_ warp down from the top of the Citadel.”

“If you can do that, you can propose to Lady Lunafreya in front of everyone no problem,” Libertus added slyly.

Noctis didn’t get it, not until later when he caught Nyx and Gladio in the hallway a few hours after that whispering conspiratorially, and then after when he was busy playing King’s Knight with Ignis, Gladio, Prompto, and Crowe, with the mage wiping the floor with all of them. When he looked over at her screen, his mouth dropped open.

“Crowe. I’ll trade you for that sword.”

Said mage raised an eyebrow at him. “With what? You don’t have anything I want.”

The Prince was nothing if not determined, and he dove straight into his inventory, sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth as he weighed his options. He missed the completely devious wink that Crowe sent Gladio as she leaned back casually in her seat.

“I’ll give it to you on one condition,” she said. This time, it was Noctis’ turn to raise his eyebrows.

“What kind of condition?”

“I’ll give it to you if you warpstrike down from the top of the Citadel.”

Silence reigned in the room as Noctis narrowed his eyes at her, the other three stopping their game to look at them. Prompto snorted, Ignis sighed, and Gladio watched with no small amount of amusement.

“You’ve been talking to Nyx and Libertus,” the Prince said, the memory of his conversation with the other two Glaives rapidly coming back him. “Did they put you up to this?”

Crowe shrugged. “They told me about it, but honestly, I want to see this myself. Besides, they’re right, you know. If you can do that, you’ll have no problem making that public proposal.”

Evidently, this was moving far too slowly for Gladio when he saw Noctis’s right eye twitch. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Gladio stepped in. “Noct, I _dare_ you to warpstrike down the Citadel.”

Prompto nearly bust a gut laughing as hard as he was, and Ignis sighed again, resuming his game. Noctis glared at his Shield, blue to amber, when the blond managed to get his laughter under control to side with Gladio. “I second that dare!”

Noctis sent an accusing glare toward Ignis. “You’re not going to convince them this is a bad idea?”

His advisor only looked at him over his spectacles and shrugged. _Traitor_.

The Prince tried his best to quell his pride- what kind of a man was he if he couldn’t do something as simple as a few warps? _With gravity pulling him down all the way, of course. Because why not?_ Besides, he enjoyed warping, he always had. _All the way down from the top of the Citadel_. It was true, proposing to Luna (again) in public wouldn’t be so hard if he was riding on the adrenaline high the same day, right? _It’s official. This was how he was going to die- not from a bloody war or old age, but because he had idiots for brothers and jerks for bodyguards egging him into doing stupid things_.

In hindsight, Noctis should have just swallowed his pride. Instead, he shook on it with Gladio, Prompto whooping in the background. Crowe had the smuggest look on her face, and between her, Nyx, and Libertus, roped Cor into it too. The Marshal was his last hope of wiggling out of it, but Cor only gave him a stoic look, crossed his arms, and told him it was “good training.”

Noctis was pretty sure that was the man’s idea of a joke, but no one went against Cor the Immortal unless they were an idiot with a death wish (which, at this point, he was- he was just in no way about to admit it), and, so, with Gladio and Prompto practically dragging him, they made their way to the top of the Citadel, where he was currently contemplating his life and his choices and all the decisions that had led him there precisely a week after the first conversation with Nyx and Libertus, the afternoon before Luna was set to arrive in Insomnia, all of which he decided were Very Bad Decisions™.

Looking down at the four small figures below, Noctis tried to steady his breathing.

_I am not afraid of heights. I am not afraid of heights. Heights? What are heights? Not afraid of heights. That carpet down there? Red enough to look like bloo- strawberries. Like strawberries. Like very…very ripe strawberries. I like strawberry ice cream. I’m going to get strawberry ice cream after this. After I do this stupid dare and fire all their asses and throw Prompto off this building._

Carefully, Noctis summoned his Engine Blade and stepped onto the edge of the balcony. He gripped his sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, and the hilt was digging into his palms as he recited the mantra again.

_Strawberry ice cream. Strawberry ice cream. After I get past this, I’m going to fire Nyx and Libertus and Gladio and Ignis and Crowe- wait, no, Crowe can stay, she has the best equipment in King’s Knight-, toss Prompto off and make it look like an accident, take a shower, go to the stupid Banquet, and see Luna. And get to propose to her all over again. Yes._

A burst of confidence filled him.

_I can do this._

Without letting his mind second-guess itself, Noctis dropped his sword down the side of the Citadel and felt his power surging toward it, just as it had always done. He felt his body being pulled weightlessly to his sword, the brief moment feeling like he could fly when he felt his body materialize and _holy Shiva’s frozen hell he was falling headfirst down and he was going to die._ Panicking, he summoned a weapon, _any_ weapon, and literally shoved it into the side of the Citadel, stopping his fall.

His arm jerked almost painfully when he stopped, his heart was going ten miles a minute as he hung there, suspended where he had actually cut into the rock face of the Citadel with the Star of the Rogue, his breathing erratic and his head spinning and _how the hell was he still so high up?!_

Looking up, Noctis was shocked to see that he was only about ten, fifteen feet below the balcony where Gladio and Prompto were standing, a camera in the latter’s hands.

“You okay, Noct?” Gladio called from his perch, a huge grin on his face. Noctis didn’t even dignify that with a response.

“Hey, look!” Prompto called excitedly as he leaned over the balcony to get a better angle for the recording. “It’s King Regis!”

A dull sense of horror filled the Prince when he looked down and saw- yep, that was definitely his father- the King walk out the front door, stopping in front of Cor, presumably to ask what was going on with four members of the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive staring up the side of the Citadel. He closed his eyes in defeat, not bothering to suppress the groan that came from his lips.

 _This is it. My life is over_.

His arm was getting tired, and so with the strength of ten men, Noctis forced his eyes open to send one more glare up at his two friends at the top before looking back down at the ground, still trying to get his breathing under control.

_He was so high up._

He was definitely going to die. He was never going to get to marry Luna, and when she arrived later in the afternoon, she would be there to see his corpse and plan his funeral instead of seeing her fiancé and planning her wedding.

“Hey Noct!” Gladio shouted down at him. “You don’t look so good!”

Noctis fixed his eyes on the wall he was currently facing, willing the stone to part and to let him in so that he didn’t have to be stuck in this predicament. The wind picked that precise moment to pick up, causing him to sway dangerously off the side of the Citadel. He started hyperventilating again, his heart running a full marathon in his chest. What if he fell? What if he fell feet-first and didn’t land right? What if he couldn’t land properly? What if he landed on his head? His legs? His arms? He sent up a quick prayer- if the gods were indeed watching over them, this would be the perfect moment to step in. His fiancé was an Oracle. Maybe he could just hang here until she arrived and called on the gods for him.

Did he _really_ want Luna to get there and see him hanging off the Citadel? Not that she would care why he was; in fact, she would be more than happy to step in and help. But did he want _Ravus_ to see him?

The wind picked up again at that altitude, and- Noctis should have been paying attention, he _really_ should have been paying attention, he _should_ have noticed how sweaty his ungloved hand had become during his mental breakdown- _his hand slipped_ off the Star, causing him to free-fall down the side of the Citadel.

Noctis would have liked nothing more than to say he didn’t give up all self-respect and let out a loud, high-pitched scream as he plummeted 1,969 feet to the red-carpeted landing below, all mental capabilities completely and utterly deserting him as he free-fell. It wasn’t until he saw Crowe lift her hands, ready to cast a spell at a moment’s notice to catch him did he frantically _yank_ at his powers to summon his Engine Blade, flinging the sword as far as it would go and praying that this time, gravity would be on his side and he would get somewhere close enough to the ground where landing wouldn’t cause any substantial damage.

Fortunately, gravity pulled him along weightlessly, making him zip through the air toward his sword faster than ever.

Unfortunately, one thousand nine hundred and sixty-nine feet was a _long way up_ , and he wasn’t even close to halfway to the ground.

So, Noctis did the only thing that he could.

He panicked and summoned every weapon he had in his arsenal one by one, with both hands, and threw them at the ground, all the while screaming as he zipped through the air. Due to his phasing in and out, and as he would later be told by a Nyx who was laughing so hard he was doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes and arm clutching his stomach from laughing aches, who couldn’t tell the story properly and had to have Crowe hold him upright, his screams were punctuated by a few seconds of silence coming down, adding on to the hilarity of the situation.

If someone were to ask him later, Noctis would have told them he had no idea how long it took him to make it down the Citadel, or how he managed to land. The next thing he knew after flying through the air was the red carpet rushing to meet him, and in his panic in throwing his weapons, he had misaimed and landed on the side of the top step of the landing, causing him to unceremoniously roll down to the traffic circle below onto his face.

_Ramuh. I did it. What the hell._

It took him a while to stop feeling like he was still free-falling, and for his brain to catch up with his body to take in what had happened only moments before, to feel the aches on his body from his less-than-graceful landing, and to register the howls of laughter that pierced the air. He was fairly certain that his arms and ribs and hips were bruised, and his nose was hurting, but he lay there, face-down on the ground without even attempting to get up.

_They were still laughing._

_I’m going to ask Luna to summon Ifrit and set their asses on fire. Maybe excluding dad. See who’s laughing then._

There were heavy footsteps approaching him- he guessed all of them on the ground, Ignis, Crowe, Nyx, Cor, and his father- were making their way to him. He could still hear Nyx’s keening laughter and instantly decided that the ground was more comfortable. Yes. There was no need for him to acknowledge their presence.

Nyx took another moment before he was sober enough to speak. “There, that wasn’t so bad now, was it? And Crowey didn’t even have to lift a finger!”

Noctis was _not_ going to raise his head, even to reply. Instead, he spoke right into the stone beneath him, the carpet muffling his voice. “Nyx, I will murder you in your sleep.”

The Glaive burst out into laughter once again, and softer footsteps stopped right by his head as he felt someone crouch down next to him. “Come on,” Crowe said, the laughter still evident in her voice. “Let’s get you up.”

He didn’t move, his brain projecting an image of what they must have seen as he toppled down the stairs. “Let me just lay here a little longer and find my dignity.”

A snort. “What dignity?”

“ _Nyx_ ,” the mage chided with a slap. She must have given him a look, because he stopped laughing immediately, clearing his throat.

“Apologies, Your Majesty.”

Noctis was about to respond when he heard his father’s deep chuckle, betrayal lancing through him. He managed to lift only his head up from the ground, looking at his dad and sending him a glare. Regis’ face was full of mirth, and the Prince readied himself for the impending humiliation he was no doubt going to face at being caught in such a situation. To his surprise, his father leaned sideways onto his cane, only offering him a smile and a comment that left his mouth hanging open.

“Just so you know, I got almost all the way down before I even started to warp.”

* * *

Later at the Banquet, after all the food had been eaten, dances had been danced, proposal had been made, and toasts had been given, Luna and Noctis leaned on the rail of the balcony, fireworks in the background. He was feeling lighter than ever, having gone through the proposal without a single hitch or stutter. It must have been the adrenaline; he reconsidered throwing his friends off the Citadel, if only because of said adrenaline he was running on after the whole warp situation that afternoon (except Nyx. He can warp; Noctis would find some other way for payback instead).

“So,” Luna started, her tone impassive as she looked at him, blue eyes to blue. He glanced down at the ring she was wearing on the hand he held before giving her his undivided attention. “I hear you had quite the adventure today, Your _High_ ness.”

Did she just-? No, he must have heard wrong. Noctis raised an eyebrow at her. “Did someone say something to you?” he asked, trying to keep the curiosity from his voice. Needless to say, he failed miserably. He was never good at layering his actions- or words- to hide his true intentions.

Luna’s face split into a wicked grin. “It seems you _fell_ pretty hard for me, don’t you think?”

That was it. Was there any end to this humiliation? Noctis tore his eyes away and looked down the side of the Citadel, weighing the pros and cons of warpstriking down again, if only to escape the teasing laughter of his new fiancé. If it weren’t for how his heart completely melted when she slid closer to him and hugged his right arm, her head leaning onto his shoulder, he probably would have seriously started considering the alternative to getting out of the Banquet.

“Don’t worry,” Luna murmured. “No matter what the others told me, it doesn’t lessen my love for you at _tall_.”

Done. Noctis deadpanned at her smirking face, then, putting a firm arm around her waist, summoned his Engine Blade and threw it down the side of the Citadel.


End file.
